


until there’s nothing left but you

by dreamerfound



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 01:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerfound/pseuds/dreamerfound
Summary: Conversation and wine shared in the back room of the book shop, again. How many times have they done this? Crowley knows where this is going, where it always goes. Nowhere.





	until there’s nothing left but you

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta: Corvidian (all mistakes are my own)
> 
> title from the song: Ashes of Eden by Breaking Benjamin

Conversation and wine shared in the back room of the book shop, again. How many times have they done this? Crowley knows where this is going, where it always goes. Nowhere. 

It's been how many days since the apocalypse that wasn't. Three? Maybe more. It's all starting to blend together a bit. He can still smell fire, soot, and smoke. Everything around him is deceptively pristine, but he can feel the shadows of what was. The cleanliness of the shop is strange enough without these shades of destruction haunting him. Despair. He remembers that feeling of loss. Aziraphale gone, not being able to find him. The feeling of everything that mattered slipping through his fingers. In that moment he hadn't cared about the world at all, not without Aziraphale in it. 

Aziraphale's going on about some recently consumed delicacy in great detail and Crowley's thoughts are drifting. He wonders if maybe he should water his plants. He hasn't been back to his flat since before they pulled one over on their respective head offices. The thought of going back there now alone, leaves him feeling cold and needy. 

"Maybe I should spend the night here, just to be sure, just to be safe," Crowley suggests, even though he knows how this dance goes. He knows the steps by heart. The angel will say no and Crowley will work just a bit harder to persuade him and finally, maybe, Aziraphale will relent and do the thing Crowley wants him to do. He's not sure he has it in him tonight to go through the motions, but he should at least try. Right?

Aziraphale frowns. "I thought you said we would have some reprieve before our respective employers-"

"former employers" Crowley corrects him. They have no employers now. They're on their own, finally.

"Yes, right, former employers." Aziraphale smoothes out the edge of his waistcoat. "Our earlier conversations implied that we had time before they would try again." 

"I did say that, yes." Crowley downs the rest of his wine. 

"Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?" Aziraphale is fretting. Hands wringing, shoulders tense. Crowley hadn't meant to make the angel worry. He's tired and just a little bit drunk, maybe more than a little. He takes off his sunglasses, letting them dangle from his fingers, and shakes his head. "No, I don't. It'll likely be a while before they show up again, angel. No need to worry about it tonight."

Aziraphale is looking at him so intensely grateful it makes him squirm. Time to go. He can't do this dance, not again, not right now. Too tired, too worn down. He stands up and slides his dark glasses back on his face; shielding himself from the angel's stare. "I'll see you later." He mumbles and starts to move past Aziraphale. He's stopped by a strong grip on his wrist. 

"You don't have to go." Aziraphale's voice is soft. Crowley doesn't want to look face him, doesn't want to see whatever pitying look his perfect blue eyes might betray. He turns to look anyways and what he sees in the angel's eyes doesn't look like pity, it looks like longing. A feeling he's all too familiar with himself. 

"You didn't exactly say I could stay either, angel."

"You didn't give me the chance." 

"I know how this goes. One step forward, far too many steps back. We've been doing this since the beginning." Crowley sighs and runs his free hand through his already disheveled hair. "It's been a long few days, Aziraphale." He turns away from those longing eyes. 

The angel tugs at his wrist until he turns back to face him. "I want you to stay, my dear." 

Hope, that stupid human thing that hurts so fucking much if you're foolish enough to try and hold onto it. The thing that tries to eat you up from the inside if you let it in. Crowley feels it taking hold in his chest, threatening to crush his already bruised heart. "Even if we're not in danger?" he asks.

"Especially so, yes." Aziraphale pulls him closer, one hand on Crowley's wrist and the other reaching up to gently cup his face. Crowley leans into the touch. He's been craving this for so damn long. Is he breathing? Probably not, doesn't matter, Aziraphale's thumb is gently brushing his lower lip now. "Would it be alright if I kissed you, my dear?" 

For a moment Crowley forgets what words are and all that comes out is, "Ngk." Breathe. His head is a rush of things he could say that might make him sound cool, collected and calm. All the things he isn't feeling at the moment. "Yesss, please do," is what he ends up saying. He hates that it sounds like begging, but then Aziraphale's lips are on his, and this preoccupation of being perceived as cool completely dissipates. 

Aziraphale releases Crowley's wrist and his hand finds its way to the other side of his face. Crowley isn't sure what to do with his hands. He's never quite sure what to do with his limbs as it is, but even more so here. He settles for sliding them around the angel's waist, under his coat, pulling the two of them closer together. 

After a while, Aziraphale stops kissing him and Crowley feels lost. They separate and Crowley drops his arms, unsure once again. 

"Was that alright?" Aziraphale asks. He looks flustered and a little undone. Crowley removes his sunglasses again and gives the angel a small smile. "More than," he says.

"Oh good, I wasn't sure if you would want to; with me, or at all, really." Aziraphale drops his hands from Crowley and straightens his bowtie. "Did you want to continue?"

"I do, but I think you need to lose a few layers of clothing. I want to touch you, angel."

They end up on the sofa, Aziraphale divested of a few layers but still mostly dressed. Crowley's down to his shirt and jeans. Belt gone. Tentative beginnings, exploring hands and mouths. Crowley has no idea how much time passes them by. He's pretty sure he accidentally stopped time at some point because the next thing he knows, he's waking up, still on the sofa; limbs wrapped around Aziraphale. He kisses the angel's neck and then gives him a little nibble. 

"Mmm, finally awake, are we?" Aziraphale sounds deliciously soft.

"Did I sleep long?" Crowley hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he had been so relaxed, so comfortable. 

"Not overly so. Interested in going out for a meal?" Aziraphale asks.

Crowley isn't in the mood to leave the sofa, let alone go out into the world right now. He's been waiting so long to be allowed to touch Aziraphale like this, he's not letting go anytime soon if he can help it. Instead of answering he sucks on the angel's neck. 

"We could stay in, of course." 

"That sounds like a splendid idea, angel." Crowley goes back to nuzzling Aziraphale's neck. After a while, the angel moves to sit up. Crowley makes a noise of protest before moving to a more upright position himself. 

"I was thinking." The angel holds his hands still in his lap."There's something I would very much like to try, if you're feeling amenable."

"Anything you want, angel." 

Aziraphale flashes him a nervous but hopeful smile. "You would need to make an Effort for what I had in mind."

Crowley blinks. "Any particular preference for what sort of Effort you'd like me to make, angel?"

"Dealer's choice, as they say. The important part is that it's you."

Crowley is pretty sure no one uses that phrase with this sort of thing but recognizes that this probably isn't the time to argue semantics. For a sense of verisimilitude, he goes with male genitalia, then snaps his fingers and sends the rest of his clothing elsewhere. Leaning back he gives Aziraphale a look that he hopes says something along the lines of _See something you like?_ Instead of betraying the extraordinary awkwardness he's actually feeling. 

Aziraphale looks him up and down and smiles. He takes a pillow from the sofa and gently places it on the floor then kneels down on it. "Now, I haven't actually done this before, but I have witnessed it on more than one occasion."

The image of the angel sneaking around and watching humans perform lewd sex acts on each other just about short circuits his brain, but then Aziraphale's warm mouth is enveloping him and thoughts were suddenly things other people had.

It isn't Crowley's first orgasm, but it is the first he's had with someone else in the room. He's taken himself in hand on a multitude of occasions, usually after spending time with Aziraphale. Bodies are strange things. Angels and demons may not come by them naturally but both Aziraphale and he have been embodied on Earth for millennia. It isn't exactly surprising that they might be tempted by some of the more pleasant perks of physicality. 

His body is humming, and he's considering never leaving the sofa again. The same sofa that is now miraculously quite a bit bigger than it had been when they had begun things. Crowley opens his eyes and catches sight of the Aziraphale dabbing at his mouth with a tartan handkerchief, looking very pleased with himself. As well he should, the things the angel had done with his mouth; downright scandalous. 

"Why don't you lose the rest of your clothes and join us up here on the sofa, angel? There's plenty of room." Crowley says, patting the space beside him.

He watches Aziraphale as he stands up and slowly undresses, placing his clothes gently on the nearby chair. Crowley shifts to his side as the angel lays down beside him.

"So did you want me to stay just so you could have your way with me?" Crowley asks half-jokingly.

"No, I wanted you to stay because I love you."

Crowley's first instinct is to give some glib response to this heartfelt confession, but he pushes that urge down and buries his face in the angel's neck and grumbles "I love you too, angel."

Another day passes by before either of them bother donning clothes or leaving the shop. Although they do make it to the bedroom eventually.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] Until there's nothing left but you - by dreamerfound](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20834762) by [LenaReads (LenaLawlipop)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaLawlipop/pseuds/LenaReads)


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